One week from yesterday
I get a paycheck. I’m
pretty broke; in need of
paying bills down and feel-
ing I can breathe easier.
But that’s pretty normal.
“Do I look as blank as I
feel?” I wonder. Please
accept this as my letter
of resignation. Hey, I just
thought of something that
might help you understand
one part of my mind.
If I think I’m dying, I
will still wake up next to
you tomorrow morning. “Oh,
the future, Dear Future!” I say
to the big orange bowl of a sky.
